


Break Me Down

by jawnlovesjumpers



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Death, Drabble, Gen, Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Post-Reichenbach, Sad, Shooting, angsty, break me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:49:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jawnlovesjumpers/pseuds/jawnlovesjumpers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's been injured on a case. Even as a doctor, John isn't sure what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Me Down

This wasn't what he had been expecting. Sherlock had called him, said he needed help on a case. John expected he needed help finding the criminal or perhaps doing some research. He should've realised when he got the text that simply stated _it's urgent_.

He took off work and rushed to the flat, unsure of what to expect. What he saw surprised him. Sherlock was sitting in his seat, as if nothing was wrong. But when John got closer, he saw that the man was bleeding. Profusely.

"God, what happened, Sherlock?" he asked frantically, his hands beginning to flit helplessly over his body. Sherlock explained that it was nothing, he had only been shot.

"Shot?!" John exclaimed, rushing to the other room to get the medical kit they kept at the flat. He heard Sherlock call after him.

"It's no use."

He came back into the sitting room, setting the kit down on the floor.

"It's no use, John."

"What do you mean?" John knew exactly what he meant. But he didn't want to believe it. "Where were you shot?" There was so much blood on the front of Sherlock's shirt that it was hard to tell.

But Sherlock's hands were pressed tightly on his chest, so John really didn't need to ask the question. He did anyway, in denial of what he knew was inevitable.

"Sherlock, no," he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. Sherlock just nodded his head.

John had moved Sherlock to the couch, in order to make him more comfortable. Sherlock's breathing was becoming more laboured, and John knew that it was close to the end of the road. He knelt beside the couch.

"I'm sorry, John," Sherlock said quietly, his eyes closed.

"No, keep your eyes open, Sherlock. Stay with me." His voice was becoming frantic. Sherlock shook his head.

"This is it."

"What do you mean?" John asked once more. He tried to let the doctor in him take over, but it wasn't working. This wasn't just another patient, this was his friend. His best friend. The man he cared about most in the world. And now he was dying. Quickly.

 

The last moments of Sherlock's life went by far too quickly for John. When the man's grip on John's hand finally loosened, he let the hand fall, staring at Sherlock's body. _No. No, no, no._ It ran through John's head repeatedly. He could feel his eyes beginning to water and sting, but he didn't care.

"Sherlock. No." This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. His best friend, the best man in the entire world in John's eyes, was now gone. He checked his pulse, just to make sure. Nothing. He knew he should call the police, call _someone_ , but John had absolutely no will to move from the side of Sherlock's body. He sat there for what seemed like forever, trying (and failing) to hold back tears. He just kept repeating the same phrase over and over. "Sherlock. No.  
No,  
no,  
no."  
He said it until his voice cracked, and ultimately failed. The flat fell silent, and John wasn't sure what to do.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a drabble on my tumblr. "Break Me" was the title of the drabble. Thank you all for reading! :)


End file.
